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"I'll interpret that as you saving the best for last," he retorts, and the moment he has the tub he opens it and eats a cookie. He offers one to Warren as well; wolves eat together.

Warren will take one, because they are in fact, damn good cookies. The version he'd made for interstellar travel wasn't nearly so good, so he's glad he doesn't have to account for that in this batch.

"You should come by for breakfast at Iris's. She does the cocktails, I do the plates."

They'd started when he was an inmate and well, it just kept going. But he won't beat around the bush too hard. His voice is gentle either way.

"Seems like it's been too long since I've seen you in person."

Because he might have wiped away the fear and loneliness from his face, but it's still in the room.

"We've both been busy," he says quietly, and realizes he's straining to hear some sound from the upstairs bedroom. And he's just going to keep on doing that as long as they're here. "Let's go for a walk? The Enclosure."

"Sounds like a plan. Know where you wanted to go?" Because it's not really a room he uses much without a specific plan. There's exactly one place that holds any sentimental value for him and he didn't want to program it into the Enclosure without a damn good reason.

"There's a forest path I go to sometimes." It reminds him of Alec, because Alec was born near there, but it's fine. Everything is fine.

He takes that tub of cookies with them and eats three more by the time they reach the Enclosure. "How have you been?"

He takes a moment of walking before he nods and says "Good".

Very good, really. He's got Ulla on a path, he and Jacobi have never been better, he's settling into this warden role. He's in a good place. But. He's leaving it at good.

He knows what he smelled. And he watches the network. The math is simple enough.

"Good good. I've started working breakfasts again in the kitchen."

"Thank God," he chuckles. "I was thinking of taking on more shifts, Pagan's been pretty well settled and I don't have much else going on. But that much time around food, I'm likely to raid the pantry."

"You're always welcome by our place for dinner," he offers as he filches another cookie. There's plenty in the bin. "Daniel's definitely feeling better about you."

"I'm glad. I've thought about what a shock it must have been to turn up here with you in a pack." He leads the way up a path, the smell of a lake not far off.

"That... definitely hit him a little hard. Like I said before. We've... always been a pack of three. SI-5. Very tight knit. But. I think he's adjusting. We both are."

He glances around the surroundings, lifting his nose a little to breathe in. He can't help but wonder if it'll smell like this when he's back at home, in a forest in the real world. How different it will be.

"We both have trouble admitting when we need something. Even when something? Is just... to talk to the other one. Or to know something. So we're working on that."

"It's a daily struggle," Lark chuckles. "I think you and I have always felt we perform better with our cards close to our chests. And we're not wrong, but... at the end of the day there are always things I regret not saying. Or lately, regret saying."

"We're used to taking care of ourselves," he says with a soft little huff, "and Daniel is... used to me taking care of him. In large and small ways. Just like I'm used to deference from him. It... requires adjustment."

"The deference," he says quietly. "That's been the hardest part about my relationship."

He cocks his head at Lark, leaving it open for him.

"Shortly before the coma, I leaned on the deference. I never have before. I swore to myself I never would, I'd never resemble the people who bred him to be a soldier." He hates himself right now. "That's what we were fighting about when I went to you."

"How did that turn out, anyway?" he asks, and he keeps his tone mild. Because he knows that with Jacobi? Everything is 300% more intense. And he doubts Lark is any different with Alec.

"We had another massive fight about it before we both went into a coma. I mean an hour before." He grabs another cookie, chewing to soothe himself, to keep the emotions down.

He doesn't even think. He just moves his hand to put it against Lark's back to try and offer comfort, contact. Something.

"Fighting's a good sign. It means he's not leaning into the deference. And. It means you both care about what's going on. Fighting means you're working on it."

The response is immediate: a relaxing of his posture, a need to be closer. "I don't know how to let myself feel... like I'm not the same as they were. God knows I trample people sometimes, like they did."

"It's an easy trap to fall into," he says with a sideways look, "but it's also a bad one. Being them? Gives you an out. It means you can't get better."

He offers a crooked smile as he leans in a little.

"Whereas I? Know you can."

He glances at him, reflecting again on how glad he is that he brought Warren into the pack. He's never been sentimental about his packmates: they carry his DNA and now Warren does too. But it's only with Warren that he feels a sense of family because of it.

"I'm going to push very hard for you and Jacobi to come with me when we're all done here, Warren." Just so he's prepared.

"I think Iris had some ideas too," he says with a quick grin, "but. nothing so far? Seems to contradict. So. As long as you can charm Maxwell? You've probably got us."

He keeps walking.

"Jacobi's family's useless. Maxwell has a restraining order on hers. Mine is all dead. And Goddard? Is going to be a mess."

"You've never told me much about Maxwell," he says, a distinct hint for him to do so now. He wants all the details.

There's a hesitation, but he'll explain it before he continues.

"I... don't talk about her? Because I got her killed. And... it doesn't feel like I... deserve to. But she? Is why I'm here."

But his smile stays on, crooked as it is.

"Dr. Alana Maxwell is the most brilliant programmer, AI specialist and linguist you've ever met. Yes, even counting here. She's... essentially, Jacobi's platonic soulmate. And she's-" How to explain? "if I needed a daughter or a sister or an aunt, she... fills that role for me. Ur family. None of those and all."

"How did you meet her?" He knows Warren has spent time with a dozen brilliant people. What he's curious about is how else Maxwell is special; what sort of person fits his need for family? Not everyone could.

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